Black Hearted Woman
by IMTheresa
Summary: Bela sells supernatural items to the highest bidder. What if someone wanted to buy Sam? One shot; written for the Supernatural on the WB Yahoo group.


**Black Hearted Woman**

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply; I don't own them and the only money exchanged is coming out of my pocket, LOL.

A/N: This story was demanded, uh, inspired by the _Supernatural on the WB_ Yahoo group. I hope it's close to what you had in mind, gang. I know you won't keep your opinions to yourselves, heh.

oooOOOooo

Black hearted woman, cheap trouble and pain is all you play

_Black Hearted Woman _

_Written by Gregg Allman; Copyright 1969 Unichappell Music Inc. and Elijah Blue Music (BMI)_

oooOOOooo

Bobby Singer was under the hood of a car when he heard his cell phone start to ring. It had been a while since he'd felt like working on a car and he wasn't particularly interested in being interrupted at the moment, but the call could be important. And with the demon war heating up, it probably was. Sighing, he wiped his hands on a shop rag as he made is way to the phone he'd left on the hood of a nearby wrecked car.

"Hello?" He didn't bother with the caller ID display.

"Bobby? It's Dean. Have you heard from Sam?"

_He's missing again? How does someone so tall keep getting so lost?_ Bobby wondered silently. _We need to get that boy microchipped._

"No; what's going on?"

He heard the young man sigh. "We split up yesterday to take care of some stuff and he didn't come back to the motel. He's not answering his phone and I can't even get a hit on the GPS."

"Are you working a job?"

"No, that's the stupid thing about this. I lost a bet, so I was doing laundry. He was shopping to restock some of our supplies. I've called the hospital, checked the police blotter….I even played Fed and went to the stores he probably would have hit. If he'd gotten into trouble, he'd have managed to get word to me somehow. I don't know what else to do."

Bobby knew the brothers had a lot of creative ways of getting messages to one another in case of emergency, but he also knew there was no such thing as a foolproof plan where the supernatural was involved. He heard the lost sound of Dean's voice; the fear. Dean was trying hard to hide it, but it was still there.

"How about I make a few calls and meet you? Where are you?"

"Outside Minneapolis. Bobby, I –"

"Yeah. Look, it will take me a while to get to you, but I'll get on the road as soon as I can. Let me make those calls and I'll get in touch with you, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Bobby heard Dean sigh and was sure he was pacing. He could tell from the background noise that Dean was outside and figured he was only a few paces away from his car.

"Call me if you hear something before I call you back, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Bobby."

"We'll find him, Dean. It's gonna be okay."

"Yeah. I hope so."

Bobby ended the call and waited a moment before heading to his house. He'd been paying so little attention to the salvage yard lately that the stock he walked past was unfamiliar. He'd even hired someone to handle the day to day business so he could spend more time on his supernatural pursuits. He knew it was potentially dangerous to have innocent people around, but he also had bills to pay. And between helping Sam and Dean, other hunters, and his own interests, he barely had time to eat some days. A lot of things were happening and even though he didn't really think they had a chance of winning the war, he wanted to go down fighting.

Since the day he'd been forced to kill his wife, before he understood demon possession, Bobby had been determined to take out as many of the bad guys as he could. It might be crazy to try to fight something as big as evil, but there were worse things to do with a life.

Bobby didn't bother to look at the house as he made his way to his bedroom. He knew it was old, dusty and cluttered. It didn't matter. It was full of things he could use to kill demons; that was the important thing. He had books, amulets and other tools of the trade that might look disorganized to the causal passerby, but Bobby knew where everything was and could put his hands on anything in a moment's notice.

While throwing some clothes into a bag, Bobby made phone calls. He knew a lot of hunters and could usually find someone who had at least a trace of any piece of information he needed. This time, though, he struck out. Everyone he spoke with promised to keep an eye out and some were close enough to Minneapolis to help out, but he wasn't used to coming up completely empty. He wasn't used to it and he didn't like it.

Bobby hadn't wanted to mention it to Dean, but he had a bad feeling that Bela was involved. Ever since she'd popped up in the Winchesters' lives, she'd been making things unnecessarily hard for them. She wasn't a good person on the best of days, but there was something about the way she seemed to be going after the brothers that made Bobby even more suspicious than he normally was. She had an agenda and nothing good would come from that.

Before heading out, Bobby spoke to the man he'd hired to run the salvage yard. Joel Harrison used to run a garage in town before some bad luck forced him out of business. He wasn't completely unaware of the supernatural, but preferred to be at least at an arm's length away from anything related to it.

Bobby was already on the road when he called Dean. He could hear the frustration in Dean's voice as he went over what he'd been doing since they last spoke. There was still no sign of Sam and Bobby knew the toll that was taking on the older brother. He regretted having to give Dean more bad news, but did what he could to make it sound less negative than it really was. Bobby didn't think he was really fooling Dean, but he had to at least try. He'd always felt close to the boys, even after their father took them out of his life, but after John's death, that closeness became a feeling of responsibility.

Sam and Dean were adults, but that didn't mean they had been ready to lose their father. Bobby supposed no one was ever really ready to lose a parent, but considering how the brothers had grown up….He would never try to replace John, but Bobby wanted to do everything he could for the boys.

ooo

Dean had done everything he could think of to get a line on his brother. In fact, most of them he'd done at least twice. They had more than one system set up, more than one way of getting messages to one another if something happened and they became separated. But the systems had broken down before; like when Sam had been possessed and when he was taken to that ghost town by the yellow-eyed demon….Dean shook his head, not wanting to remember that. He'd lost his brother in that damn town. He could still feel Sam's heavy form in his arms as he died; he could still smell the blood. And then there was the deal….

Dean would do anything for his brother and he didn't regret making the deal with the Crossroads demon. Not exactly. He was more than willing to go to Hell if it meant that Sam would be okay, but he hadn't counted on losing his humanity and becoming a demon himself. He hadn't counted on their dad escaping from the pit before he got there. And he hadn't counted on Sam becoming hard in order to survive alone.

Dean thought back to when Sam had told him that he had to become more like him to make on his own. That simple statement had felt like a kick in the stomach to him. Not to hear that's what Sam thought of him; he wasn't surprised at that. Dean _was_ hard and he'd tried to put himself in between Sam and danger for as long as he could remember. What hurt was that he didn't want Sam to lose the very thing that made him _Sam. _

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled as he downed the last of his beer.

He didn't normally drink when he was working, but he hated not having anywhere to turn and he was frustrated. He didn't plan to get drunk; he just wanted something to take the edge off.

Sitting on a stool and turning his back to the bar, Dean watched the people around him. It was happy hour and the after-work crowd filled the place. It wasn't his kind of bar and they weren't his kind of people, but it had been the first place he came to while driving around almost aimlessly in his search for Sam. It wasn't high class; just not the usual blue collar bar where he felt most comfortable.

After finishing his second beer, Dean paid his tab and headed for the door. He wanted to make a stop at the hospital to see if Sam had been admitted. He knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't ignore even the most remote possibility. Armed with a fake badge and his most winning smile, Dean charmed the young woman in the admissions office. Normally he would have been happy just getting her phone number, but he was intent on finding his brother and didn't waver from his official persona.

Back at the motel room, having hit the expected brick wall, he made another round of calls to the larger hospitals in Minneapolis and expanded his search to include other surrounding cities and towns. Using Sam's computer, he found his way into law enforcement records and while he didn't find Sam, he found something interesting. He was interrupted when his cell phone rang.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said after seeing his friend's name on the display screen.

"I'm a couple hours out. How ya doin'?"

"Okay. I made another round, but didn't find any sign of Sam. I used some of his tricks to get into the local police department's records and found something, though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Two men were found near the dumpster at a fast food place in town not long ago. One had been shot in the head and the other in the heart. This isn't the kind of town where that kind of thing is normal and it will probably be all over the late news tonight. The cops have to still be at the scene; I think Agent Plant needs to check it out, see what he can find out."

"You think it's related somehow?"

"I don't know. I just want to make sure neither of the men is my brother."

"Be careful, Dean. Stay focused here, okay?"

"I'm tryin', man. I guess you haven't found out anything?"

"No, but I got in touch with someone who can maybe help." Bobby sounded frustrated. "I'll call you when I'm closer, unless you call me first."

"Okay. See ya soon."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"If one of those guys is Sam….you call me right away, you hear?"

"Bobby, I –"

"I mean it, Dean. You get away from there and you call me."

"Yeah," Dean scratched his cheek. "Yeah, I will."

Dean drove toward the fast food restaurant nervously. There hadn't been enough information in the database yet to know for sure what had happened and he was almost afraid to find out. He didn't really think that either of the men was Sam, but what if….He pushed the thought from his head as he parked the car a block away. He worked on a cover story as he made his way to the crime scene, walking past police cars, news vans and curious people. This was probably the biggest thing to hit the town in years and Dean knew he had to tread carefully.

He approached a deputy who had obviously been assigned to crowd control and introduced himself as an FBI agent. He told the young man he'd been passing through town when he heard about the shootings on his police scanner and wanted to offer his assistance. With more time to prepare, he might have gone for a state cop, but he didn't have a Minnesota law enforcement ID handy.

The deputy pointed him in the direction of the sheriff. Dean hoped he was a born and bred local sheriff and not someone who had trained in a big city. Luck was usually against the Winchesters, but Dean was happy to find Sheriff Griffin more than grateful for a little assistance from a federal agent.

Dean was anxious to see the bodies, but forced himself to stay calm and ask the right questions so he wouldn't make the man suspicious. He added to his own story, telling Sheriff Griffin that he was working on a case that the victims might have been a part of.

As they spoke, Dean surveyed the scene. There was no graffiti, no trash strewn around and nothing to indicate anything even remotely unpleasant had happened; nothing except the two dead men who had been covered with tarps. Dean made his way to the bodies, noting that there wasn't even much blood. He crouched between them and prepared himself. Neither appeared to be tall enough to be Sam, but he wasn't taking anything for granted.

Under the first tarp he pulled back was a black man who Dean didn't think could have been more than 20 years old. He noted the head wound before turning to the second body. This one was an older white man who didn't look familiar, either. Dean was about to let out a relieved sigh when he noticed what looked like the edge of a tattoo on the man's chest. He pulled the t-shirt aside and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You recognize the tattoo?" the sheriff asked, obviously having seen Dean's reaction.

"Uh, no, not really," Dean lied. He and Sam wore the same tattoo; it was a protection symbol whose purpose was to prevent demonic possession.

"It looks Satanic."

Dean recovered the body and stood up, ignoring the sheriff's comment. Continuing his charade, Dean offered a few suggestions for the investigation. He excused himself a few minutes later when his cell phone rang.

"Hey, Bobby," he said into the phone.

"I'm making good time. I should be there in a half hour or so. What's going on?"

"I'm still at the crime scene. Sam's not here, but one of the guys has a protection tat on his chest."

"That so?" Bobby asked, sounding thoughtful. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know, Bobby. I don't recognize them and they didn't have any ID."

"Well, there's a shock."

"Yeah, I know. It's not a coincidence, is it?'

"Probably not."

Dean sighed. "I think I've done about all I can here, but the sheriff seems to like me, so maybe I can keep an eye on the investigation. You want to meet me at the motel?"

"Sure. I'll be there soon."

ooo

Bobby didn't like the way Dean looked, but he hadn't expected anything different. He had a sudden memory of a time when the boys were little, before some argument between him and John that ended up keeping them apart for years. Sam, who couldn't have been more than four, had skinned his knee while playing outside. Dean had been under orders from their father to keep an eye out for him and had probably done a better job of that than most other eight year olds, but he'd looked so stricken when he got the crying child into the house that Bobby had immediately felt worse for him than he had for Sam.

John took Sam into the bathroom to clean him up and Bobby had tried to distract Dean, but he'd insisted on being with his brother. Bobby remembered John asking what had happened. He didn't recall any anger in John's voice, but Dean had shot to attention faster than a professional soldier and recited the events like he was giving a report. He had taken full responsibility for something that was nothing more than the normal clumsiness of a four-year old boy.

Sam's injury had not been bad, but Dean made him stay on the couch for the rest of the day and he waited on him hand and foot. Bobby had known right then that Dean would have taken the injury himself if he could and that he cared more about his little brother than he did himself. That attitude remained to the present day and Bobby saw the same dark expression on Dean's face today that he'd seen all those years ago.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I had some peanuts at a bar earlier."

"How about we get some dinner and you tell me what you found out from the sheriff?" Bobby suggested.

"I'm not hungry."

"Yeah, well, I am. Let's go."

Relieved that Dean didn't fight him, Bobby walked out of the room and headed for the restaurant across the street. They both ordered burgers and once the waitress had walked away, Dean told Bobby what he'd learned at the crime scene.

"It was called in by the manager. One of his teenage workers took the trash out and found the bodies. The bullet wounds looked normal, but there wasn't very much blood. The cops didn't recover any casings, but there weren't exit wounds, so the bullets should still be inside the bodies. They're sending them to the county coroner. No ID, like I told you, and no idea who they are. They'll be printed and I'd be willing to be the prints are will be in the system."

Bobby looked thoughtful. "What did they look like?"

Dean described them, but Bobby only nodded.

"What are you thinking?" Dean asked, sounding suspicious. "You know them?"

"Maybe. Any chance you can get me a picture?"

"I just happened to snap a couple when no one was looking." Dean pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Bobby. "Sheriff Griffin told me these are the first killings they've had in town in over 20 years. He's going to handle it for the time being, but there's no guarantee he won't call the staties in. I can only take my charade so far."

Bobby rubbed his bearded chin. "Omak and Gabriel."

"Say what?"

"Omak and Gabriel. They're hunters who work for the highest bidder," Bobby said. "I met 'em a few times. They weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer, but they weren't so bad."

"The highest bidder?" Dean repeated. "Did they care which side the bidder was on?"

"I never heard of 'em working for the monsters, but…." Bobby knew if he told Dean everything he knew about the men now, they'd leave without eating. Despite what he'd told Dean, he wasn't particularly hungry, but he wanted the boy to eat. Luckily the waitress arrived with their food.

"But what, Bobby?"

The old man picked up his burger. "Eat first, then we'll finish talking."

Dean stared at the food on the plate in front of him for several long moments. When he took a bite of the burger, Bobby knew it was for his benefit, but he was okay with that. Dean managed to eat half of it and Bobby didn't push for more. They paid their bill and went back to the motel.

"What else do you know about them, Bobby?" Dean asked without preamble.

"Like I said, they work for the highest bidder."

"Yeah? And?"

"Sometimes the highest bidder was Bela."

"Bela." Dean sat down on the edge of the closest bed. "Son of a bitch!"

"They've worked for a lot of people, Dean. It doesn't mean she's involved in whatever this is."

"Yeah, well, there's no reason to believe she _isn't_ involved. That bitch has been everywhere for months. We can't seem to take a step without her showing up and I'm sick of it. And I swear to God, if she's done anything to Sam….I never should have let her walk away after she shot him."

"She _shot_ him?" Bobby was incredulous.

Dean quickly told him the story, then moved onto her being responsible for having the Impala towed, stealing the Hand of Glory and alerting Gordon to their location. Bobby already knew she'd taken the Colt and turned them over to the Feds.

"Boy, you have got to be smarter around her. She's dangerous."

"Yeah, well…."

Bobby decided not to push it. Dean already looked miserable and was probably being harder on himself than Bobby could ever hope to be.

"How do we find her, Bobby?" Dean asked after a moment. "She's gone underground since her little anonymous tip to the Feds."

There was a knock on the door and Dean stood up quickly.

"I think that's for me," Bobby said. "But just in case…."

Dean nodded and picked his handgun up from the table. Bobby walked to the door and looked through the peephole. He glanced at Dean and motioned for him to put the gun away. Dean held it out of sight, but clearly wasn't ready to set it back down. After a moment, Bobby opened the door and a young man walked in.

"Dean, this is Wade Davis. I contacted him earlier and asked him to see what he could find out about Sam."

"Find out how?" Dean asked.

"I'm pretty good with some divination tools," Wade said, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose.

Dean glanced at Bobby, then put the gun away.

"What did you find out?" Bobby asked, offering him a chair.

"Well, the spirits wouldn't tell me where Sam is, but –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said. "Spirits?"

Wade looked at Bobby.

"Dean, you know how Bela uses that spirit board to get information? Wade uses something similar."

"Yeah, it's called a Triangle of Solomon."

Dean's eyes widened and Bobby nodded at him. "Yep; same place the devil's trap comes from."

"It's used in conjunction with a Magic Circle and once spirits are inside the triangle, they have to obey," Wade confirmed.

"So, why wouldn't the spirits tell you where Sam is?" Dean asked quietly.

Wade's expression faltered. "Well, I don't know exactly. They seemed very insistent to tell me about someone named Bela instead."

Bobby moved forward and laid a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder, looking him in the eye. Dean sighed and backed down. Wade cleared his throat, appearing nervous, and pushed his glasses up again.

"What did they say about Bela?" Bobby asked, his tone calm.

"She's not far away, but she's going to leave soon. She has something that she very much wants to sell and there isn't much time before her buyer arrives."

"What is she trying to sell?" Bobby asked.

Wade shook his head. "The spirits didn't say, but they seemed agitated. I'm sorry, sometimes they're very hard to understand, even if they are compelled to obey within the triangle."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Yes, the spirits were very specific about that."

ooo

Bela Talbot practically floated into the bedroom where she'd settled Sam. She hadn't been this happy in a long time, or felt so satisfied. It hadn't been easy to acquire Sam, but maybe this would finally get her out from under the debt she owed. It would have been so much easier and saved her so much trouble if she'd been allowed to repay it with money, but there were some who had so much that a little more didn't mean anything to them. That was the level she wanted to reach.

Currently, Sam was tied up and unconscious, but that was because she hadn't been clear enough with the men she'd hired to bring him to her. He wasn't hurt, but the bruises on his face would be a little hard to explain to her buyer. Sam was to have been delivered in prime condition, but at least the marks would heal.

She didn't know how long she had before he would wake up, but she had to wait. It would be too dangerous to do what she had to while he was unconscious. She walked around the bed where Sam lay, appreciating the view. She'd managed to get his coat off of him and the shirt he'd worn under that so that now he lay just in a t-shirt and jeans. She'd considered slipping those off as well, but that would have been purely selfish and while she wasn't above such a move, she'd stopped just short of it.

As it turned out, Bela didn't have to wait long for Sam to wake up. He grimaced in pain, but his expression turned quickly to confusion and then anger when he realized he was a prisoner. She moved into his line of sight, a bright smile on her face.

"Bela." He sounded disgusted.

"Hello, Sam."

"Where am I?"

"Oh, a little cabin in the woods."

He began to struggle, but stilled when he saw the gun in her hand. "Don't worry; I'll untie you soon."

"What do you think you're going to do to me?"

"Do to you? Nothing," she leered at him. "Though it's a pity…too bad we don't have more time."

She almost laughed as Sam seemed to shrink away from her stare.

"Where's Dean?" he asked after a moment.

Bela shrugged. "I don't know. He isn't my concern at the moment."

"You think he's not going to come for me?"

"Again, he's not my concern at the moment. But how do you know he's even able to come for you?" She paused, seeing the momentary uncertainty on Sam's face. "It doesn't really matter, though, does it? I mean, before long he won't be around anyway. He'll be in Hell."

"Shut up."

Bela grinned. "Oh come on, Sam. Don't tell me you haven't spent every minute of every day thinking about that. You'll be all alone for the first time in your pathetic, miserable life. No Daddy, no Dean, no little Jessica."

"What do you know about Jessica?"

"Just the basics. But the real issue for you is your brother, isn't it?"

"Just get on with whatever you're going to do."

"Why, Sam? So you don't have to think about spending the rest of your life – however long that might be – alone?"

Sam only glared at her.

"Oh, all right." Bela pretended to pout. "I can see you're not going to be any fun at all. Though that isn't surprising. You're always so straight-laced. Good lord, you are your father's son, aren't you? He didn't know how to have fun, either."

"You didn't know my father."

"No, not personally, I admit. But I've heard about the man. I've heard how driven he was; obsessed with finding the demon that killed his wife. You hunters are all so much alike. You're pushed into the world and you just can't give it up."

"And you're so much better? Making money from fear and pain? At least we help people."

"Oh, and that's so much more noble, isn't it? Well, in the end, we all die. At least I'm living comfortably until then."

"You really are a bitch, you know that?'

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Bela grinned and pulled a small velvet bag from her jacket pocket. She moved quickly, not because she was afraid of Sam getting way, but because her supply of the dust was limited. Before Sam had time to react, she'd poured a handful of the sparkling powder into her hand and blown it into Sam's face. He was asleep a moment later and once she'd satisfied herself that it was genuine, Bela untied him and arranged him more comfortably.

ooo

"So, what do we do?" Dean asked once Wade had gone.

"Go to Bela," Bobby answered.

"What if this doesn't have anything to do with Sam?"

"One way or another, I think it does."

"What do you mean, one way or another?"

Bobby didn't want to answer that question; he thought the spirits were using them to stop Bela. For whatever reason, they couldn't do it themselves, but they wanted it done. He also thought that the spirits would give them information about Sam if they stopped her from selling whatever her current object was. Either that, or Bela was behind Sam's disappearance.

Bobby busied himself with getting weapons ready.

Dean looked at him. "Bobby?"

"Let's just go, okay?"

"You trust this Wade guy?"

"Yes, I do. He's a good kid."

Bobby heard Dean sigh before he started getting his own weapons together. "All right."

ooo

Dean followed the directions they'd gotten from Wade, knowing they were headed toward a large cabin in a fairly uninhabited area near Lake Minnetonka. The Impala's distinctive engine would be a dead give away, so Dean parked far enough away that it wouldn't be heard from the house and the two men walked the rest of the way, using the cover of the woods for protection.

Bela hired people to do most of her dirty work; Bobby and Dean theorized that the men who had been killed in town had been working for her. Dean didn't doubt that once they'd secured the object for her that she'd killed them. Bobby wasn't as sure, wondering what her motive would have been. Omak and Gabriel would never have turned her in or gone after her if she'd paid them what they'd agreed on. Besides, if she ran around killing her henchmen, people would top applying for the job.

Dean and Bobby reached the house and walked around it, confirming what the spirits had told them through Wade. They decided to go in through the back because it was slightly more secluded. The spirits had not been specific about what they would find inside, but the men assumed that Bela would be willing to give up whatever it was that she had when their guns were pointed at her. Money meant a lot to the woman, but not more than her own life.

Once inside, Dean and Bobby split up to look for Bela. Though large, the cabin was only one story and contained few rooms. Dean was prepared to go up against Bela, but he was not at all ready for what he found first. He pushed open the door to what he'd assumed was a bedroom and was shocked to see his brother lying on a bed inside.

"Sammy," he whispered as he rushed forward.

It was a queen-sized canopy bed covered with decorative pillows and a thick comforter. Sam was on his back, dressed only in jeans and a t-shirt and his hands rested on his stomach. Dean called his name again as he searched for obvious signs of injury, not finding anything but the bruises. Sam didn't react and Dean shook him gently. He still didn't move.

"You can't wake him."

Dean knew the voice that came from the doorway. He would recognize the English accent and the superior tone anywhere. He looked away from his brother, not surprised to see that she was holding a gun on him.

"Bela."

The sight of her smile almost made Dean's skin crawl. "What have you done to him?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Her smile widened. "He's completely healthy, just in an enchanted sleep."

"Why?"

The woman rolled her eyes and laughed. "So he doesn't get away, of course."

"Wake him up."

"Oh, darling, you're in no position to give me orders."

Dean raised his gun.

"Kill me and he'll never wake up," her voice had turned icy.

"What do you want with him?"

"You know," she said, ignoring his question. "I'm surprised you found us. You're good, but I'm so much better."

"I asked you what you wanted with him!" Dean exclaimed.

Bela smiled again. "What have I told you that I do?"

"Roll around naked in money?"

She laughed. "Well, yes, I did say that, didn't I? I procure objects for a select clientele."

"My brother is no object."

"Well, perhaps not in the conventional sense. Do you have any idea how much someone might be willing to pay for the antichrist, though? It's mind boggling, even to me."

"He's not the antichrist."

"My buyer thinks that he is. That's all that matters."

"You're planning to _sell_ my brother? Are you _insane_?"

Bela shrugged one shoulder, the gun still trained on Dean. "Some might think that I am."

"Who is your buyer?"

"You don't seriously expect me to tell you that."

"Do you even know?"

"All I know, all I care about, is that the money is good."

"How did you do it, Bela? You hired those two goons to get him and…." Dean hesitated. "You killed them, didn't you? Omak and Gabriel somehow got Sam for you and you killed them."

Dean noticed her smile faltered, just for a moment.

"You can't be here when my buyer arrives," Bela said, trying to cover her sudden discomfort. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to shoot you."

Dean saw Bobby over Bela's shoulder. "You'd better shoot to kill, bitch, or else you'll never have another moment of peace."

"Don't worry; this one won't be a little shoulder wound like I gave your brother. Not that it matters. You have an expiration date, after all."

"Put the gun down, Bela," Bobby said.

Dean took great satisfaction in seeing her smile fade. He raised his own gun.

"You heard the man. Put the gun down. Nice and slow."

Bela raised her hands, but slowly moved into a crouch and set the gun on the floor."

"Kick it toward me," Dean said. Bobby had moved closer to Bela and she pushed the gun toward Dean with her foot.

Satisfied he was out of her reach, Dean squatted to pick it up. He removed the cartridge, slipping it into his coat pocket. He put the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

"Wake him up."

"I can't," she insisted, having regained control of her voice. "The enchantment is like a combination lock. Only the buyer can awaken him."

Dean looked at Bobby and he only shrugged.

"Get out of here. I don't want you anywhere near my brother."

"Come on, Bela. Let's get comfortable in the living room," Bobby said.

Alone with his brother, Dean removed Bela's gun from his jeans and set it on the bureau with his own weapon before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Sammy….how'd you get yourself into this? I know those two guys are involved somehow; how did they get to you?"

Dean rubbed his face, then began to search the room for anything that might be causing his brother's slumber. Finding nothing, he returned to Sam's side and examined him again. He looked peaceful lying on the bed; more peaceful than Dean had seen him in a very long time.

"Don't worry, Sammy, I'll fix this," Dean promised him before picking up his gun and going to the living room.

He found that Bobby had tied Bela to a wooden kitchen chair and was guarding her closely. He'd given up his handgun for a rifle.

"You can't keep me here," she insisted.

"Shut up," Dean said.

She smiled, appearing more confident than she could possibly be. "It won't be good for you when my buyer arrives."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Dean," she said, her voice sultry. "If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask."

"Don't flatter yourself, bitch. And I've had this conversation before," Dean said, referring to the demon they'd known as Meg. "So, tell me, why did you do it?"

"I told you. For the money."

"No, not Sam. Why'd you kill your goons?"

Dean watched her eyes. He didn't think she had killed them, but hearing that they were dead was certainly making her nervous.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You did have two goons, didn't you? Omak and Gabriel? Two hunters who work for the money. You can appreciate that."

"I don't know who you mean."

"Huh." Dean circled the chair, then stood in front of her before continuing. "You know, if you can't wake Sam, there's no reason to keep you alive. I'll just deal with your buyer. Or maybe I'll just take Sam out of here and _you_ can deal with your buyer." Dean saw obvious fear on her face.

"You think my buyer will leave you and your precious little brother alone if you take him? You won't be able to get far enough away or go far enough underground to stay away from him."

Dean smiled, but he felt no joy. "I got nothin' to lose. Remember that expiration date, as you called it?"

"You know, in a way, so does Sam."

"What does that mean?"

Bela grinned. "He's got a new demon after him; a pretty bad one, from what I hear."

Dean's expression didn't change. "Why'd you give us up to the Feds, anyway?"

"It's just one of those things that makes me charming."

"Charming, yeah, right."

There was silence in the room for several minutes. Dean continued to circle the chair as Bela struggled to keep her eyes on him.

"Let me go!" Bela suddenly exploded. "You can't do this to me!"

"Bitch, take a Midol and calm the hell down! I can do whatever I want. I'm already doomed for Hell, what do I care?"

Dean hesitated when Bobby's cell phone rang. The call lasted only a few minutes and as he hung up, Bobby nodded to Dean who pulled a large stick of chalk from his pocket and began to draw a shape around her on the wooden floor.

"What are you doing?" Bela demanded. Dean thought her amused tone sounded forced.

"It's just a trick I learned," he said.

"Your little drawing won't have an effect on me," she insisted. "I'm human."

"Only in name, sweetheart," he said.

Once he was finished, Dean made sure that Bela was secured to the chair. Her expression turned confident again when there was a knock on the door.

"That ain't for you," Dean assured her as he walked across the room.

He looked through the side window next to the door before opening it. Wade walked in, pushing his glasses up and looking nervous.

"Don't worry, she's not getting out of the chair," Dean said.

Wade moved closer to Bela and examined the drawing.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Bela asked.

"This is Bela," Dean spat. Wade nodded, hugging himself.

"This is good," he said after a moment. "It will work."

Wade went about the rest of the preparations while Bela looked on. Dean saw the moment she realized what was being constructed around her. She began to struggle, but there was no way out of her bonds.

"Here's what's gonna happen, sweetheart," Dean said in as cold a voice as he could muster. "My friend here is gonna summon some spirits who have quite a beef with you. They're gonna be trapped in this Triangle and forced to obey him. Thing is, he won't have to make them do anything. They're completely willing and the Triangle is just to coral them."

"What about your brother?"

"You said you couldn't wake him."

"What if I lied?"

"Aw, you wouldn't lie to me, would you? Not after everything we've meant to each other. on, those were just pranks."

Dean pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. "Turning me and Sam over to the Feds? Yeah, that was a good one."

He stepped within the Triangle and leaned against the arms of the chair, close to Bela's face. "You _knew_ we were wanted. You _knew_ what would happen to us if the Feds got a hold of us. You're just a cold-hearted bitch who doesn't care about anyone but herself. But now the tables have turned and I'm done with you. Not that he needs to, but Bobby's gonna stay here to make sure you don't get out of this chair. Wade's gonna call his friends, you know, the ones you hate you? And I'm gonna take my brother out of here. With the demon that's after us now, your buyer is of little concern to me."

"I'll pay you to let me out," Bela said quickly as Dean turned his back and walked away. "I'll pay whatever you want."

Dean looked at her, sure the pure hatred he felt showed on his face. "Everything really is about money with you, isn't it?"

"Come on, Dean. You could be living on Easy Street."

"Sure, right up to the time the Hell Hounds come for me. No thanks, sweetheart, I'll pass."

"What about your brother?" her voice was frantic.

"You don't talk to me about my brother."

Bela laughed. "You like making decisions for him, don't you? You like to take care of little Sammy; he –"

"You're not allowed to call him that."

"He's the only one who ever loved you, isn't he? Your father never did, he –"

Dean rushed forward without warning and his hands were around Bela's throat before Dean even realized it.

"I am so _sick_ of hearing that my father didn't love me. He _did_, damnit! I know he did. And you don't know a damn thing about my father or about love, so you can just _shut the fuck up_!"

Dean heard Bobby calling his name, but he sounded very far away. A moment later, he felt hands on his arms and he realized Bobby was pulling him off of Bela. The two men fell backward and Dean wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He didn't even know he'd knocked the chair over. He felt nothing when he saw Bela struggling for breath or the bruises already forming on her throat.

He heard Bobby saying they didn't have much time and when Bobby told him to get Sam to the Impala, Dean didn't hesitate. Later, he wouldn't remember the struggle it took to get his brother to the car and he wouldn't care. Once Sam was laid out in the back seat, Dean drove the car to the cabin. Bobby and Wade were walking toward him and as they got into the car, he could hear Bela's screams coming from inside the house. With no regrets, Dean drove back to the highway.

ooo

Dean had been aware of some of the plan, but he knew that there had been uncertainties. Bobby had suspicions about what they were up against, but only had some of the facts. The older man didn't know they'd find Sam in the cabin; at least not for sure. Dean wasn't angry that Bobby hadn't shared his ideas; he'd had enough on his mind and if he realized the entirety of what Bobby thought they might be walking into, he wouldn't have been able to handle it as well. He would have been too worried about Sam; too worried about having to trust spirits to help him.

On the drive to Lake Minnetonka, Dean and Bobby had devised the plan to summon spirits to the Triangle of Solomon. It hadn't been too much of a leap to assume the spirits who had told Wade about Bela's location had no love for her. The phone call that Bobby had gotten at the cabin was the confirmation.

After leaving them alone in the motel room earlier, Wade had summoned the spirits again and commanded them to answer his questions. With no choice but to obey, they told him that Bela had been using them to track down the objects she'd been selling. They didn't like being used to finance her lifestyle; instead they wanted the items to be used for their original purpose. They also agreed that if they were allowed to deal with Bela on their own, they would break the sleep spell that had been placed on Sam.

ooo

Dean sat on the edge of the bed in the motel room, anxious for the spirits to break the spell Bela had placed on him. Wade and Bobby were also in the room, but Dean barely noticed them.

When Sam opened his eyes, Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam?"

He looked toward his brother, relief evident on his face. "Dean. What….?"

"It's over. You're safe."

Sam sat up and saw the other men in the room. "Bobby…."

"Hey, kid. You okay?"

Sam rubbed his face. "Yeah, I guess, I….What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Dean asked.

Sam's expression cleared. "Bela; a cabin…."

"She's been dealt with," Dean nodded toward Wade and introduced him. "We probably couldn't have gotten you out of there without him."

"Thanks," Sam said quietly.

Bobby stood up. "I think Wade and I are gonna go across the street to give you two a few minutes. See you over there?"

Dean nodded.

Once they were alone, Sam looked at him. "Where's Bela?"

Dean didn't want to answer. He wasn't sure what reaction he'd get from Sam; horrified that Dean had allowed something to happen to a human or justified. And the truth was, he wasn't sure which reaction he wanted.

"Dean?"

He sighed and told Sam about the spirits. His brother's expression hardened and he only nodded.

"What did she want with me?" he asked after a moment, his tone soft.

"She, uh, she said had a buyer and –"

"She was selling me? To who?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know, Sammy. Wade might be able to find out from the spirits, but I was more interested in getting you out of there before whoever it was showed up."

"Why would someone want to buy me?" Sam asked.

"It doesn't matter, Sa—"

"Why, Dean?"

Dean avoided his brother's eyes.

"Tell me."

"Look, we don't even know if Bela was telling the truth," Dean insisted.

"What did she tell you?"

"That her buyer thinks you're the antichrist. But that's crap, Sam. We know it is. The yellow-eyed demon is dead and the white-eyed bitch –"

"I don't want to talk about this," Sam said quickly as he got out of bed. "I just….Not now."

Dean watched as Sam walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He wasn't any more interested in talking when he came out a few minutes later.

ooo

The only question left unanswered was who had killed Omak and Gabriel. The police had a few clues, but the case had not been solved when Sam and Dean left town. The buyer was also still a mystery.

Dean was worried about his brother. Since the spirits had broken the spell a week ago, he'd been quiet. He hadn't even paid much attention to Ruby when she paid them a visit a couple of days before. Sam insisted that he didn't remember anything more than what he'd already told Dean. He didn't know how he ended up in that cabin or what had happened when he was in the enchanted sleep. Dean wasn't sure that he believed Sam, but saw no reason to push him. With Lilith out there somewhere, they both had enough to worry about.

Bobby had gone back to the cabin on his way home and called the brothers to tell them that Bela was nowhere to be found. There was no sign that anyone had even been in the house recently. Wade had contacted the spirits using the Triangle and even though he commanded them to answer him, their answers were vague and inconclusive.

Though it was possible that her buyer had cleaned up the house and disposed of her body to avoid her being somehow connected to him, Dean suspected that she had somehow managed to get out of the cabin alive and on her own. He promised himself that if that was the case and she ever showed her face again, he would shoot her on sight.

"Hey, Dean?"

The older man was lost in thought while driving along a back road one night and the sound of his brother's voice surprised him.

"Yeah?" he reached for the radio control and turned down the volume.

"It's time to go back to work. We've been wandering around for a week and….I know you've been waiting for me to be ready and, well, I am."

"You sure?"

Dean saw his brother set his jaw and nod. In an uncharacteristic move, Sam leaned forward and turned the music up again. Dean took that for what it was worth; Sam had nothing else to say.

_fin_


End file.
